


Little Ghost

by crazddreamer



Category: All Elite Wrestling, 新日本プロレス | New Japan Pro-Wrestling
Genre: F/M, Fingering, NJPW - Freeform, One Shot, Oral Sex, Shower Sex, Vaginal Sex, humiliation kink if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:28:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22534753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crazddreamer/pseuds/crazddreamer
Summary: Archer really enjoys teasing the Hell out of the new American reporter that showed up at NJPW. She hates to admit that she likes it too.
Relationships: Lance Archer/OFC
Comments: 1
Kudos: 17





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> *Unnamed female 1st POV  
> *This is my first foray into NJPW Fan Fic. Please be kind, I'm learning on the fly. I'm sure things are wrong!

Feeling nervous and out of place, I stepped into the small room, immediately bombarded with the noise from other reporters, clicking cameras, and flashing lights. I was late, and I had already missed more than I should have. Skirting my way through the crowd, trying to ignore the glances my way, I found a place against the wall, near a hallway, my notepad and pen gripped tightly in my hands.

I was drastically overdressed, in a gray pencil skirt and white blouse, complete with Mary Jane heels. It never occurred to me to wear track suits or slacks, as the other reporters were clad in. In America, if you were doing an interview, you dressed up, not down. In Japan, things were different, putting it lightly. I had only been in the country two days. I was still jet lagged and I was clueless as to what was going on.

Standing in the back hallway of Korakuen Hall, the New Japan Pro Wrestling banner proudly displayed not five feet from me, I wondered again how I ended up here. I knew nothing about pro wrestling, let alone Japan and the culture.

_It’s just for a week! You can do anything for a week! Consider it a paid vacation!_

Shifting against the wall, I rolled my eyes. My boss had a different idea of vacation than I did. The reporter who covered this beat for our sports station was suspended for gambling. Suffice it to say, NJPW wasn’t welcoming him back any time soon.

Glancing at my notes to see what match just ended, I noticed people muttering and shifting nervously. Even though I didn’t understand the language, I caught enough to know that something was about to happen.

I heard the panting first. Turning my head to peek around the corner, my breath caught in my throat as a man lumbered into the alcove, his face tight with anger, his body covered in sweat. He marched straight to the crowd of reporters, but everyone was silent as he railed against losing against his opponent. Curse words flew out of his mouth at a pace that caused my mouth to drop.

“I’m sick of this shit!” he yelled, his voice bouncing off the walls and seeping straight into my bones. Immediately I felt my stomach clench as he paced, glaring as he continued his rant against his opponent. Sweat ran down my back and clung to my skin. He was exuding sexual energy and frustration, and I felt my mouth go dry even as my panties dampened.

Lance Archer. I checked my notes. Yes, this was Lance Archer. Seven foot eight, towering over everyone, he was an intense presence that I wasn’t ready for. How was I supposed to speak to him? I couldn’t even breathe. His red braid trailed down his back past his thick ass. It whipped around as he pressed his face into cameras and then whirled around to do the same to another.

“Go ahead!” he boomed, leaning into the personal space of a few men nearby. “Ask me! Ask me how I’m going to do it!”

I had no idea what he was referring to, the ringing in my ears had drowned out most of his words up until that moment. Someone spoke, daring to take the chance.

“SHUT UP,” Archer snapped, cutting them off. His question had been bait, and that person took it. The crowd began mumbling and protesting his treatment of them and he laughed, sending a dark heat straight to my core.

His eyes roved the room, landing on me. My breath caught in my chest and I tried to imagine what he was seeing. A terrified, sweaty, pale, American. Opening my mouth, trying to ask him a question as my job and profession dictated, he grinned at me. It was a grin of ego, cockiness oozing out of his skin. With a tilt of his head, he sneered at me. “Too slow, baby! You better speak up if you want a quote!”

And with that, Lance Archer was gone.

******

When I had gotten back to the States, I found that my co-worker had actually been fired, not just suspended, and I was selected to fill his spot covering New Japan Pro Wrestling. I was given his apartment in Toyko and set up with a driver who would take me where I needed to go. Finding myself permanently in a new city, let alone a new country, I was disoriented and apprehensive. 

Slowly I learned things to make my life easier. How to eat with chopsticks was number one. Figuring out where to shop was another. Local markets were full of amazing food that I took full advantage of enjoying. I made it a mission to read as much about Japanese etiquette as I could, dreading the day I would accidently insult someone with my lack of knowledge. Mostly, the Japanese people were sweet and kind, and those I interacted with daily tried to put me at ease or teach me. I was deeply thankful to them.

One thing that didn’t make my life easier? Lance Archer.

Everytime he saw me after a match he’d toss out some rude zinger at me, effectively catching me off guard and humiliating me. What’s worse was the fact that I had taken to packing extra underwear when I went to the shows because inevitably, I would end up a wet mess after being pinned down by his green eyes.

I _hated_ that I knew his eye color. He was a giant, more than two feet taller than me, I should not have been able to notice. But he had taken to finding me in the crowd of reporters and getting super close to my face, sneering as he made jokes and backwards compliments at my expense.

And I fucking liked it.

God help me, I liked Lance Archer. There was something that told me he was passionate and full of fire, possessive and dominant. I looked forward to seeing him after his matches, when he was a sweaty, panting mess, and I missed him when he wasn’t on the card. I found myself researching him online, watching his old matches, telling myself it was so that I could do my job to the best of my ability, but honestly, I wasn’t watching anyone else when he was in the ring. I was hyperfocused on him, amazed at his athletic ability and fierceness. I dreamed of him, of riding him, feeling his lips against my neck and his hands gripping my ass, waking up with my hand over my mouth and my fingers deep inside my core.

I had it bad. And I still hadn’t even spoken to him.

*****

My press pass hung around my neck and my heels echoed against the concrete walls as I made my way through the Tokyo Dome’s back halls. People were everywhere, preparing for the big show. I dodged them, trying to stay out of the way while smiling at those people who spoke to me. At this point I only knew enough Japanese to say hello, thank you, and good bye, so rather than risk butchering anything I generally just smiled and waved. I needed more practice.

_“_ _Chīsana yūrei!”_ My nickname echoed off the walls as people greeted me. No one called me by my given name. I had apparently made such an impact being shy and nervous that the reporters had given me a moniker that stuck. _Little Ghost._

Waving at the girls in makeup, I rounded a corner and slammed into a person. “Oof!” I groaned, stumbling back a few steps.

“Well I’m glad to finally have your body against mine.”

Snapping my head up, I found Juice Robinson smirking at me. He was another wrestler that had noticed me at press junkets, singling me out, but he did nothing for me. Something about him rubbed me the wrong way, and while I wasn’t scared of him, I was careful. “Sorry, blind corner.” I motioned to the hallway I had just turned from.

Looking me up and down, taking in my black A-line skirt and lipstick red blouse, he leaned one forearm against the wall above my head, encroaching on my personal space. “You always look so nice. It’s refreshing to see.” His voice trailed off, but I understood his meaning. I continued to dress professionally when I went to the shows. It put me in a different mindset than jeans and a t-shirt. I stuck out like a sore thumb, but I got my job done, and that was all that mattered to me.

I stepped around him, keeping my eyes on his face as I began to walk backwards down the hallway. I didn’t want my back to him until I was further away. “Nice talking to you. I’m late for a meeting with the translator. She’s giving me lessons.”

He snorted, straightening up and shifting his shoulders beneath his shirt. “Japanese isn’t your strong suit, sweetie.”

Offended, but not willing to banter with him, I turned to continue down the hall. I stopped short when I saw Lance leaning against the wall at the next hallway intersection, his arms crossed over his broad chest, glaring at Juice. “She’ll get it.” He abandoned his staring contest with Robinson and locked eyes with me. “Otherwise she’ll never get a date with a good looking Japanese wrestler.”

My mouth dropped open and he chuckled, pushing away from the wall and walking off. My face felt flushed, and my body was singing with awareness. Anytime Lance was nearby, no matter what he said or did, my body betrayed me.

*****

A few weeks later, I returned to Tokyo feeling refreshed and enthused. I had spent the holidays with my family, and I found myself excited to get back to the friends I had made and the job I was beginning to make my own. My confidence was growing, and I was learning to be less of a wallflower during the press junkets and more bold.

Except when Lance Archer arrived.

Because that’s when I left the room, feigning a stomachache, a broken heel on my shoe, my pen ran out of ink, any excuse I could think of, I got out of that room and didn’t return until he was gone. I was a coward and I knew it.

Using my broken Japanese, I was speaking to Miho Abe backstage at a show when I felt a hand on my shoulder. Startled, because there was a bit of a no-touching rule, I turned my head to find Juice grinning at me. “Have a moment?” he asked.

Miho gestured for me to go ahead, her sweet smile politely giving me permission to end our conversation. I didn’t want to, but I smiled back at her and watched as she walked away. Lightly shrugging, I made Juice’s hand fall from my shoulder. He was dressed in white tights that ended at his knees, lined with leopard fur, his Converse were bedazzled within an inch of their lives, and tucked into his waistband were a pair of star shaped sunglasses. It was everything I could do to not curl my lip at him in distaste.

“Hi Juice.”

His smile still in place, he angled his body so that he was blocking my view from the rest of the hallway. “So listen, you’ve been here a while, and the rumor is, you are still single. Why hasn’t anyone snatched you up yet?”

The hair on the back of my neck bristled, and I shifted, trying to create more space between the two of us. “I’m here to work.”

“But you live here, right? So that implies you have a personal life.”

Knowing he was trying to be charming, I stamped down my impulse to be rude. He was shooting his shot, I couldn’t fault him for that. But I just wasn’t interested in him. He was too slippery, like an eel. He always made me feel like a game piece or a plaything.

“Juice, is there something you need?” I asked. At this point, I just wanted to bolt, but that would draw unnecessary attention.

Straightening up, shifting his shoulders as if he was preparing himself for a big dive, he took a deep breath. “Well, I was wondering if you wanted to come home with me after the show.”

Stunned, my mouth dropped open. I couldn’t tell if he had screwed up or if he was really asking me for a one-night stand.

Snickering came from behind him and in unison, Juice and I both turned to see Lance sitting in a fold out chair, digging through a duffle bag. Trying to figure out when he arrived, I felt the immediate shift in Juice’s body language. Turning, Juice stepped in front of me, blocking my view of Lance. “What’s so funny, Archer?”

I peeked around Juice’s body to find Lance shaking his head, grinning. His long red braid fell over his shoulder, pooling in his lap. Mesmerized by how it danced against his ring pants everytime he moved, I found my eyes riveted and my mouth suspiciously dry.

“Man, you’ve got no game. Go to your house? What the fuck are you? A serial killer?” Lance clicked his tongue, pulling his t-shirt over his head, baring his beautiful tattoos, and then covering them again with a clean merch shirt. “Baby, if you fall for that, you deserve whatever bullshit Robinson gives you.”

Feeling my face turn bright pink at the endearment, I pushed Juice out of my way and all but ran out of the area. I couldn’t let Lance know how much he affected me, and I absolutely did not want to deal with Juice Robinson trying to make a pass at me.

I needed a quiet space, somewhere with no one around, so I could collect myself. Juice frustrated me and Lance befuddled me. I wanted none of it. Making a few left turns, I stopped, finding myself in the back of the arena. I hadn’t been to this area before, and I wasn’t sure where I was. Cursing at myself under my breath, I leaned against the wall, sliding down until I was seated. Making sure my skirt was tucked around me, and my shirt wasn’t caught on the rough texture of the wall, I closed my eyes and leaned my head back. I wanted privacy, and now I had it. No one was around.

I was absolutely sure that Juice Robinson was just looking for an easy lay, or a new conquest. Funnily enough, I didn’t blame him for it. He was good looking and athletic, he probably had girls throwing themselves at him all the time. I just wasn’t that girl. It was possible that was why he was suddenly interested. Hard to get, and all that.

Lance Archer was another story. He was rude, crass, and elusive. He appeared at odd moments, tossed out a dumb comment, and was gone again. But he always seemed to turn up when I was nervous or in a new situation. It was felt like he was checking on me, making sure….of what, I didn’t know. He never made polite conversation, never hung around long enough for me to ask.

And it only made me want him more. Talk about hard to get.

Letting out a groan of frustration, I checked my phone for the time, surprised to find I had been sitting on the concrete floor longer than I had thought. I had already missed the first three matches, and I scrambled to my feet, pissed at myself.

“Whoa there, Baby. Keep moving like that and you’ll crash into the wall.”

My heart stopped as a hand gripped my elbow and helped me get steady on my feet. Looking up I locked eyes with Lance Archer, and my heart stuttered in my chest. He smirked at me, hauling me close to his large, towering body, closer than he really should have. He was wearing basketball shorts and a shirt with no sleeves, and I felt disappointment that I had missed his match.

Yanking my arm out of his grip, I took a step back. I needed breathing room. “I’m fine, thanks for the hand.”

“Been wondering where you were. I missed feeling your eyes on me tonight. What has you hiding back here?”

I was so focused on his full lower lip, entranced by the spot where his beard met his mouth, that I almost missed his comment. “What do you mean, you missed feeling my eyes on you?”

Crossing his arms and leaning against the wall, he leaned over me, dwarfing my short frame. “I know you watch me. And I like it.”

My eyes widened and my body melted. Locking my knees so that I wouldn’t waver, I tried to ignore the sudden dampness of my underwear. It took everything I had inside of my body to deny his statement. “I don’t know what you mean. I need to go, I’ve missed too much of the show as it is.”

His arm came down, blocking my exit. “Tell me right now, right here. Do you want Robinson?”

The sudden shift in conversation confused me. “Of course not!” I felt insulted that he would even think that.

I caught the relief in his eyes before he managed to mask it, slamming his arrogant attitude back into place like a shield. “You want me though, don’t you, Baby?”

A shudder ran through my body, and I closed my eyes, trying to gather the strength needed to lie to him. His warmth seeped into my skin as he stepped closer. I leaned forward, my breasts inadvertently pressing against his arm. He wrapped his hand around my middle, moving closer to my back so that he was draped over me. I should have felt scared, intimidated, but instead I felt protected and excited.

“Be very careful of your next words, Baby. They have consequences. Because if you tell me you don’t want me, if you lie to me, you’ll never have another chance. If you tell me to leave you alone, I will. Permanently. So think hard.” His words ghosted behind my ear, and I bit my lip to hold back my moan.

The back of my head was cradled against his sternum, my hands gripping his arm that banded underneath my chest. How could I deny myself this? Juice had offered me a one night stand, and I felt insulted and repulsed. Lance was offering me….something, and all I wanted was to wrap my legs around his waist and bite his shoulder.

Swallowing hard, I opened my eyes to stare blankly at the wall next to me. “What do you want from me, Archer? What is it that you think you can offer me?”

His free hand snaked its way into my hair, digging his fingers against my skull before gripping the strands in his fist. I gasped, more from the shock than any pain. I could feel wetness slide past the protection of my panties and smear across my thighs as I shifted to try to alleviate the pressure there.

“I want you to be mine. I can offer you a place with me.”

His gruff voice seeped into my skin, weakening any resolve I had left. “You don’t even know me,” I whispered, my final protest.

He inhaled sharply, his nose behind my ear. I could feel his beard scrape my skin. “I know more than you think. Come on Baby, say what I want to hear.”

His hand against my ribs tightened, bringing me flush against his body. I could feel him at the small of my back, his dick hard for me.

There was no way I was going to miss out on what was in those shorts. “Yes,” I moaned.

A ragged groan tore from his throat and he spun me around, bending to take me in his arms, lifting me in the air. He cradled me against his hard body and my arms wrapped around his neck as his lips met mine for the first time. He wasted no time with light kisses. He claimed my mouth, claimed me, demanding I give him what he wanted.

My head felt heavy with fog as I desperately tried to remember to breathe through my nose. He overwhelmed my senses, made me forget the simplest things. All I could do was hold on and give in to him.

I felt his braid brush my hand and I automatically gripped it, wrapping it around my fist and tugged on it. Lance groaned, his dick twitching against me as his head fell back and I used the opportunity to take deep breaths and kiss his neck.

“I need a shower,” he muttered, his hands gripping my ass and shifting me against his hardness.

Startled at the comment, I jerked upright in his arms. “What? Now?”

A smirk spread across his lips and I once again found myself dazed by him. “Don’t stop on my account.”

Spinning us around, he began walking down the hallway, still holding onto me. “Archer, wait,” I protested. I started squirming against his hold, trying to get down. “What if someone sees us? Oh my god, put me down! I’ll walk wherever you want, just put me down!”

He slapped my ass hard. “My dick is going to be buried in you in just a few minutes. You better use my first name.”

I gasped at his crassness, but I stilled my movements and hid my face in his neck, wrapping my arms tighter around him. “Lance…” I whispered. It felt personal, intimate.

He made a sound deep in his chest that I felt roll through my whole body. “We’re going in here.”

I didn’t bother looking up, scared to see what was going on around us. I heard a door slam against concrete and lots of echoing, then a lock flip in place.

“Climb down, I need your thighs wrapped around my head.”

I gasped, lifting my head to find us in an unused locker room, and Lance setting me down on a bench bracketed by rows of lockers. He kneeled before me, his eyes catching mine. “Here?” I asked, nervously.

Smiling at me, he brushed my hair away from my face and kissed me passionately, his hand resting on the nape of my neck. Pulling away, he grinned at my dazed expression. “Yeah Baby, here. The door is locked, no one knows we are here. Lean back, let me taste you.”

Being embarrassed and shy around him was probably going to be permanent, I mused. His words made me blush, but I immediately did as he said, laying back lengthwise on the bench. “Are you sure-?” I wasn’t sure what I was asking.

He didn’t respond, just pushed my skirt up to my hips, lifted my legs over his shoulders, and began licking at my thighs.

I had no time to prepare, no time to steel myself against what it would feel like to have Lance Archer’s tongue on my skin. Frantically, I reached for anything to hold onto, which ended up being his braid. Wrapping it around my hand again, I cradled the back of his head with the same hand, biting my lip as he trailed further north, his mouth making contact with my cloth covered pussy.

He sucked hard and I lost my breath, my eyes flying open to stare blindly at the ceiling, then snapping shut as he pressed hard, burying himself between my legs.

“Fuck,” he moaned. “So wet, Baby.” Lance reached up and ripped my panties at the leg, causing them to fold over and out of his way. “Have you been dripping all day?” he groaned against me. “I would have taken care of this sooner if I would have known.” Sucking hard at my clit, he pressed a large finger up inside of me.

Sucking in a gasp of air, I felt my ass lift in the air, following Lance’s movements as he shifted closer to me, pressing my knees back to my chest. “Archer,” I moaned.

A slap to my ass startled me and he pulled back, immediately making me whine. Sitting up between my legs, he reached up and gripped me behind my neck, pulling me to a sitting position. Even with him being on his knees, he was still eye level with me. “If you can’t remember my name, I’m going to have to remind you. And I’ll make sure you are screaming it for the whole arena to hear.”

In a quick movement, he stood up, toeing off his sneakers, and picked me up in his arms. I wrapped my legs around his waist automatically. A strange need came over me, a need for gentleness in the midst of all this excitement. He was a strong, dominant man, and I reacted to that. But I needed just a moment to know this wasn’t a game to him. Because it wasn’t a game to me. I wanted him, not just now, but for as long as I could hold onto him.

“Lance?”

Something in my tone must have clued him in, because he caught my eye and waited. We stared at each other for a long time, seeing more than either one of us probably wanted to reveal at that moment. A slow smile spread across my face, and I put my hands on his cheeks, drawing him in for a soft kiss. Nibbling on his lower lip, that sexy lip that distracted me during press junkets and was the star of many of my wet dreams, I took my time devouring his mouth. This time I did the claiming. He was mine, and this was my way of showing him.

Pulling back, I gave him a sexy smolder, and rocked my core against his hardness. “Fuck,” he groaned. Without another word he marched towards the showers.

“Wait a minute,” I protested, finally putting the pieces together. “Lance, don’t!”

Another slap to my ass stopped my squirming and I watched over my shoulder as he flipped a shower on and whirled me right through the spray. I shrieked as cold water rained down on us, my nipples pebbling against my black bra, showing through the fabric and my shirt.

“Lance!” I screamed, his name bouncing off the tiles.

He chuckled, his head dipping down to lick the water off my neck. “Told you I would make you scream my name.”

“Oh Christ!” I shivered, not sure if it was from the chilliness of the water or from the heat of Lance’s lips on my skin.

Pinning my hips to the wall with his, he leaned away from me and whipped his shirt over his head. I loved seeing him shirtless, gazing at his tattoos and broad chest. My hands spanned his chest, taking in as much skin as I could. Lance watched me, his eyes burning, letting me take my time.

The water was beginning to warm up and steam filled the stall, encircling the two of us. I took no notice of my drenched clothes and my soggy shoes. My focus was entirely on Lance as he ran his hands up my thighs to my hips, and then to my blouse that was plastered against my skin.

With a mischievous grin, he gripped my shirt in his strong hands and tugged, ripping it open and scattering buttons all over the stall, and then pulling it off my arms. I had no time for protests before he dove down to lick and suck at the tops of my breasts. I held onto his shoulders, desperately trying to think of ways I could give him the same pleasure as he was giving me.

“Let me suck you,” I moaned just as he dipped into my bra to tug my breast out.

I felt him twitch against my core. “I always wanted to know if your mouth had some skill.” He looked at me with a sly glint in his eye, and I knew I was about to hear another one of his backward compliments. “Come on, Little Ghost, let’s see if we can finally get something out of those pretty lips.”

Shaking my head at the nickname, I dropped my legs down from Lance’s waist and waited for him to put me on the floor. My legs dangled for a second as he kissed me deeply before allowing my feet to touch the tile. I gave him a sultry smile and crouched down, thankful I was still wearing my heels. The couple inches they afforded me put me just below his cloth covered dick. I could work with that.

I wasted no time in dragging his shorts and boxers down his legs. I felt greedy. I had felt his cock against me, but now I wanted to see and taste it. As the cloth skimmed down, his thick dick pressed against his leg, seemingly never ending. About mid-thigh the head finally appeared, and he popped up right into my waiting mouth.

“Fuck,” he groaned, leaning over my head to place his hands against the wall. The shower continued to rain down on us, but he shielded me from most of the spray with his large back.

He was thick and long, and there was no way I was going to fit him all in my mouth. Wrapping two hands around his cock, I used the water to rub him, using my mouth to suck on the head. My tongue flicked over the skin, causing him to moan loudly.

My skirt pooled around me, sopping wet and ruined, but I paid no mind, focusing only on Lance. His dick was as hard as steel and I could feel the veins pulsing under my tongue. Continuing to pump him with one hand, I looked up at him, wanting him to see how much I loved having him in my mouth. Reaching up, I cradled his balls in my opposite hand, feeling a sheer amount of pleasure when he pressed his lips together in an effort to control himself.

I was doing this to him. It was because of me he was groaning and pulsing, his hips bucking against my mouth. No matter what happened after this, I had this moment. I would always know I had made Lance Archer, the MurderHawk, shake under my hands.

“Enough of that,” he growled. Startled, I let him slip from my mouth. Lance bent down and lifted me to my feet. “You looked a little smug down there, Baby.”

He turned me so that I was facing the tile and tugged my zipper down on my skirt. It fell in a puddle on the shower stall floor along with my ripped panties, blocking the drain. Water began backing up, and our feet splashed as we moved around.

Pressing his body against my back, he gripped my hair in his hand, twisting it so that it was off my neck. “You’re so small, Little Ghost. I’m absolutely sure you are going to disappear one day.”

I closed my eyes, not wanting him to see how his soft words moved me. “I’m right here. I’m here,” I whispered against the tile. I was where I wanted to be, with him.

His hand snuck around my hips, and without hesitation, delved into my folds. Gasping, my eyes shot open and my hips bucked against his, causing him to groan and shove two fingers deep inside of me. “So hot, Baby. Shit, you’re squeezing my fingers.”

I couldn’t help it, a light orgasm rolled over me, taking the edge off, but nearly as much as I needed. Every movement of Lance’s fingers inside of me and his body against my back had flames licking under my skin.

He growled in my ear, a hand yanking my bra down so that he could palm my breasts. As his fingers continued to push inside, he rubbed himself against my back. “Your pussy is so hungry,” he breathed, and in response I fluttered around his fingers. His thumb brushed my clit and I nearly came out of my skin.

“Lance, please.” I was cradled against his body, but I put my hands against the tile so that I could leverage against him. My hips moved on their own, my bare ass rubbing against his hard cock.

He nibbled at my neck, plucking my nipples into hard peaks, one and then the other, and then back again. He removed his hand from my pussy, smirking when I whined, but he didn’t make a comment to my surprise. Lifting my leg so that it notched in the crook of his elbow, he repositioned himself. Thinking he was finally going to give me what I dreamed about for months, I turned my head to look at him over my shoulder.

Instead, with that glint in his eye that loved to irk me, he shoved three fingers deep in my pussy. I screamed, not in pain but in absolute pleasure. A hard orgasm roared through my body, and my legs shook. Leaning my head against the tile, I panted.

Behind me, Lance’s gruff voice echoed in the stall. “That’s right Baby, let everyone hear you.” His fingers continued to move, continued to push into my core at a pace that I couldn’t fathom. “Look at you. Do you like my fingers in your pussy, Little Ghost?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” I chanted, half aware of what was going on around me. My eyes were squeezed shut at the sensations he was drawing out of me. “Please fuck me. Please Lance, please!”

He clicked his tongue in mock disappointment. “Not yet. Give me one more.”

I shook my head. “No, no, I can’t! No more!”

Lance growled. “Yes, more! Give it to me! Cum on my fingers!”

He twisted his fingers just slightly while simultaneously pressing his thumb hard onto my clit. Shrieking, my nails clawed at the smooth tile, desperate for some sort of anchor as I exploded again. Stars burst behind my eyes and I felt myself get lightheaded.

So fast I hardly felt the movement, Lance pulled his fingers out of me, dropped my leg and whirled me around. Picking me up, he again braced me against the wall, his dick sinking inside of me. I gasped, clutching at his shoulders, nails digging into his skin. While his fingers felt amazing, nothing compared to his cock.

His green eyes were locked with mine, watching as I gasped and moaned. “Take all of me.”

I wanted to tell him I couldn’t, that he was too big, but with every inch that sunk into me, the more pleasure I felt. “Oh god,” I moaned. My legs were draped over his arms, spreading me wide open for him. I had no where to go, no choice but to accept what he gave me.

Lines of strain appeared around his mouth as he pressed his lips together. I could tell he was trying to go slow, to allow me a chance to get used to his thickness, but it took a toll on him.

Taking a deep breath, I leaned forward and kissed him deeply. Nibbling on his lip, I whispered, “Fuck me, Lance.”

He didn’t even hesitate. Withdrawing almost completely, he then slammed his cock back inside, swallowing my cries with a kiss. “So tight, Baby. All mine, huh? You’re all mine?”

I nodded, keeping my lips close to his, sharing his breath as he pounded into me. Looking down, I was stunned to find I was taking his entire length and a shudder ran through me. I was exhausted, wiped out from the multiple orgasms he had already given me. But I could already feel that ball in my lower stomach starting to grow, warming up and getting larger with every thrust.

Lance brought my torso higher in his grip to suck on my nipples. I moaned, thrusting myself into his mouth. “Fuck you taste so good.”

“Harder, Archer, Harder!” I purposefully used his last name, wanting to see the fire in his gaze. It thrilled and excited me that I could draw that out of him.

Lifting his head, he locked eyes with me and reached up to pull sharply at my nipple. I gasped, but a flood of wetness pooled around his cock, and he smirked at me. “Harder? Oh Baby, you don’t know what you just asked for.”

Wrapping his arms fully around my waist, smashing my body against his, he turned so that I was directly in the spray of the shower head and he was leaning against the wall. Bending his knees slightly, he found my mouth, kissing me into a daze before he slammed up into me. My shriek was muffled, but I clawed at his shoulders and back, then found his braid and yanked hard.

Lance didn’t budge, claiming my mouth and fucking me deep and hard, I felt his dick pulse inside of me, a rapid beat that drove me crazy. “Lance,” I panted, desperate for him to touch me. “My clit. Please!”

He grinned at me smugly. “Nah, Baby. You are going to cum from just my dick in your pretty pussy. And I’m going to keep going until you do.”

My mouth dropped open, but his words hit me deep in my core. Using his braid, I tugged his head back and latched my mouth to his neck, sucking and biting on it. God I craved him, his taste, he voice, his mere presence filled me with such excitement and nerves that I couldn’t focus on anything but him.

The sound of skin against skin filled the space. Water poured over the lip of the shower stall and flooded into the locker room, but neither of us cared. I didn’t care if the world fell down around me, Lance was making me feel pleasure that I had never felt before, and I desperately wanted to keep.

“Mine,” I whispered his earlier words against his neck. “Be mine, Lance.” I nipped at his shoulder.

“Fuck,” he groaned. “I’m yours Little Ghost. Fuck just keep squeezing me like that with your pussy and I’ll be yours forever.”

He moved just slightly and nailed the spot he’d just been lightly rubbing before. I screamed, my orgasm banging through me before I could even warn him. I scratched his back, my legs shaking against his arms, my mouth firmly latched to his shoulder.

“Shit, shit, shit!” He chanted as his hips began stuttering against mine. I felt him flood into me and it triggered another orgasm.

“Lance!” I wailed. “Again! I’m cumming again! Oh my God!”

Grunting, he pulsed inside of me as I came down from my high. Repositioning my legs so that I was now fully wrapped around him, he slid to the floor and held me tight, ignoring the pool of water. I kept my face buried in his neck, suddenly ashamed of how I looked. My make up was probably smeared down my face due to the water and my clothes were ruined. How was I going to get out of here without embarrassing myself?

“Stop that,” he grumbled.

I didn’t pretend I didn’t know what he was talking about. “This isn’t like me,” I muttered.

He trailed his mouth across my shoulder to my ear. “This is you with me.”

His words made my heart flutter, but my brain tried to reject it. “I need clothes.”

Sighing, Lance wiped my hair off of my face and then gripped the back of my neck. He turned my head so that I had to face him. “I’m not a soft man, I know that. But I’m not full of shit either. I say what I mean and I mean what I say, even during sex.”

I bit my lip, trying to figure out what that meant for me.

He brought me to his lips and kissed me lightly. “I’ll go get you some clothes. Stay here, lock the door. I want to take you home and fuck you some more.”

My mouth dropped open as he picked me up off of his lap and groaned as he pulled out of me. Setting me to the side, he grabbed his wet boxers and basketball shorts and slid them on. Next was his shirt and then he left the shower stall, shutting off the water as he went. I heard him putting on his shoes and then a white towel was flying at my face.

“Dry off. I’ll be right back, Baby.”

He was gone before I even had time to get my legs under me.

*****

Lance was back a short time later. My hair was wrapped in a towel and my body in another. I had managed to wash my face of make up, but now it felt dry and cracked. I needed moisturizer immediately to feel even slightly less hideous.

“Here you go,” he handed me a pair of track pants and one of his merch t-shirts. He had already changed into new shorts and t-shirt, looking fresh like nothing had happened.

I muttered my thanks and turned around before dropping the towel and tugging the clothes on. He tsked behind me.

“A bit late to be shy now, Little Ghost. I’ve had my mouth all over you.”

I ignored him, running my fingers through my hair trying to detangle it. Suddenly, he was there, behind me, removing my hands and smoothing my hair back into a ponytail. He used a hair tie from his own wrist to pull my hair up, and I closed my eyes. I wasn’t ready for the soft side of Lance Archer. Cocky, teasing, a slight bit of an asshole, I could deal with that easily.

I wrapped my wet clothes in the towel and set them on the bench in front of me. Slowly he turned me so that I had to look up at him. He was in my personal space, his body against mine, and it made my blood sing. “Mine, Little Ghost. I meant it. If I have to lock that door until we figure out what’s between us, fine, I’ll do that. I don’t care if they shut the arena down with us in it. We aren’t leaving until you start talking.”

Dipping my head low, I bit my lip. “I’m fine. Just in my feelings. That,” I waved at the showers, “was intense.”

His hands came up to cradle the sides of my neck, and he used his thumbs to tilt my chin up. “Just say it was amazing and be done with it,” he smirked at me.

Rolling my eyes, I slapped his shoulder lightly. “You are a cocky son of a bitch, Lance Archer.”

Hauling me against his body, he hugged me tightly. “I’m your son of a bitch now, Baby. What are you going to do about it?”

Staring up into his amazing green eyes, I gave him a slight smile. If he wanted to be mine, I’d be stupid to try to push him away. Finding a deep resolve in myself, I winked at him. “I’d like to take you home tonight.”

Laughing, he hooked his arm over my shoulders and walked me to the door, grabbing my bundle of wet clothes as we went. “You’ve got more game than Robinson.”

“Everyone has more game than Robinson,” I quipped back.

“Well then take me home, Little Ghost. Fuck me like you own me.”

My body shuddered at his words and I stopped him as we entered the hallway. I pulled him down so that I could claim him lips with mine, smiling as he groaned against me. “I do,” I whispered.

“You just wait until I get you on a bed,” he griped, swatting my ass as I danced away. “You aren’t going to be able to walk straight for a week!”

*****


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Archer signed a contract with AEW but he forgot to tell his girlfriend before the news broke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lance Archer has ruined my life. That is all. Carry on.

The alert on my phone caught my attention as I sat in a little café down the street from my apartment. Putting my cup down on the small table in front of me, I picked up my phone, unprepared for the headline.

**LANCE ARCHER SIGNS MULTI-YEAR CONTRACT WITH AEW**

I was sure I stopped breathing, my chest tightened and air escaped my lungs. Skim reading the article, I felt my temper start to rise. Lance had gone back to the States to renew his Visa, or so he had said. Now, faced with the report that he was done with NJPW, I seriously doubted the validity of that.

My hand squeezed my phone so hard my knuckles turned white. Lance and I had been dating only six months, but we were hardly ever apart. His trip back home was the first time we’d been separated for any length of time. Fuming, I mulled over the idea that it was obvious that he had been in talks with AEW for a while, yet he never mentioned it to me.

Looking up around me to see if anyone noticed how flustered I was, and realizing they didn’t, I put my phone back down on the table. I had jumped both feet into the deep end with Lance, but it seemed to me that he hadn’t. A possible job change? One that would take him away from Japan, where I was currently on assignment covering NJPW, would garner a passing conversation at the least. Lance had professed his love and possession of me every single day since our tryst, yet signing a contract with AEW never came up.

To say I was hurt was putting it mildly. I felt duped. And he was thousands of miles away and in a completely different time zone. Our contact while he had been gone had been staggered, text messaging when we could, making appointments for skyping, and a little web cam lover action, was all that we had been able to cobble together. At this moment, trying to ignore that headline I could see in my mind’s eye, I felt as if I couldn’t even reach out to him for reassurance.

I seethed, the phone shaking in my hands. What a liar, I thought. All those promises, those sweet whispered words, meant absolutely nothing. I would have been better sticking with Juice Robinson. At least I would have known what to expect, even though he repulsed me thoroughly. I wouldn’t have made myself vulnerable, or made plans for the future.

What if the headline was wrong? I tried to console myself as I gathered my belongings to leave. What if AEW just reached out to him? What if he declined, which is why he didn’t say anything to me?

As I pushed the café door open to step out onto the busy streets of Tokyo, I flipped my jacket hood over my head to protect from the rain. Sighing, I took a deep breath. There was something in me that said the article was right, and Lance was hiding it from me for some reason. Swiping at the tears on my face, I hoped people would just think it was the rain ruining my makeup and not the fact that my boyfriend had lied to me, and possibly ghosted me.

~~~~~

Sitting on my couch later that evening, Archer’s ringtone sounded from my phone signaling he was sending a text.

**Archer:**

****

**Me:** 😒🤬

 **Archer:** Come on Little Ghost. You know you want all this

Grumbling, I muted the TV so I could concentrate on chewing my boyfriend’s ass out. After reading the article earlier in the day, I didn’t reach out to him. I was afraid of what he’d say. And the fact that he was now texting me without saying a word about the new contract really made my blood boil.

 **Me:** I want to slap you so hard. You told me you went back to the States to deal with your Visa, NOT to sign a new contract, and you have the audacity to send me NUDES? Fuck Off Archer!

 **Archer:** Call me that again and I’m gonna fly back over there and spank your ass

 **Me:** Highly doubtful, you don’t even have a valid Visa. Which, apparently, you don’t even need anymore

 **Archer:** ✈ 

I rolled my eyes, not responding. I felt emotionally drained and disappointed. Even though I had hit Lance back with sass and wit, I still felt like I was in shock over the situation. Mentally I was in no place to deal with him.

Taking my ass to bed early, I crawled inbetween the sheets and laid my head on my pillow, wishing I could just leave Japan and go home. But that wasn’t an option. I had a job to do, responsibilities and friends in Japan. I had to stay, and now, I had to stay alone.

I cried myself to sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~

The next day was spent writing articles, sourcing photos, and skyping with my editor from the comfort of my apartment. Lounging in my yoga pants with a baggy t-shirt on allowed me to self soothe while I tried to distract myself from my new single reality. Ordering dinner in from a local restaurant, I closed out my day with eating and then applying a face mask in the tub while shopping online for ridiculously priced clothes.

I hadn’t heard from Lance, and I tried not to think about him. He made his choice, didn’t consult me, and I had to live with that. I tossed on a clean pair of pajama pants and a tank top, sans underwear, I pushed him from my mind long enough to finish watching a few episodes on Netflix. Obsessing over how wronged I was wasn’t going to fix the situation. I just had to move on.

Stripping my pajama pants off and climbing in bed I snorted to myself. Move on? I was head over heels in love with Lance Archer. I would have dropped everything and moved back to the States with him if he would have asked. Anything he asked of me, I would have done it. Was that healthy? No idea. But I loved him and was willing to risk the unemployment line for him.

Now I’d never know what could have happened, because he had taken that choice from me.

I must have fallen asleep because I awoke to the feeling of someone climbing in bed with me. One arm pulled me tight against a hard body I knew extremely well, while the other slid underneath my pillow and neck.

Against my ear and neck, Lance’s beard tickled my skin. “If you thought for one minute that I was joking when I said I would fly back over here to spank your beautiful ass, I’m here to tell you that you were very, very wrong.”

My heart was pounding from being awoken so suddenly, but my body was singing. He was here. He was in Japan, with me. I didn’t know what it meant, but at that moment, I was too relieved to care.

In my sleep, my tank top had bunched at my waist, and Lance pushed at my hips with his large hand, moving me so I was half on my stomach, half on my side. Yanking the blanket down, the moonlight shining through the window caught my bare skin just as his hand landed hard on my ass.

“Lance!” I yelled, mostly from shock. My hands gripped his forearm under my pillow, but I made no move to stop him. It had been too long since the last time we touched, and I was yearning for any kind of body contact from him.

“Oh, so now you know my name, do you?” he grumbled, his voice low and deep, reverberating through my body and pooling at my core. I was wet, I knew I was. His voice, his mere presence, made me wild.

Another slap landed on my bottom and the sting was immediately soothed by a rub of his hand. I closed my eyes, bracing myself against the rollercoaster of feelings. “I missed you,” I whispered.

Lance heard me. “I missed you, Little Ghost.” Slap. “And I will fly thousands of miles anytime you need me.” Slap. Rub. Slap. “But, you accused me,” slap slap slap. “Of lying to you.” His rough hand glided over my skin and I couldn’t stop the gasps of pleasure that escaped. My pussy was throbbing as if it had a heartbeat of its own, and I clenched my thighs together to try to alleviate the pressure. “Do you know how that made me feel?” he asked, continuing to spank me.

Restlessly, I pulled my knees up underneath my stomach, my ass in the air. The cool air of my apartment kissed my skin and I felt myself get wetter. Lance pulled his arm out from under my pillow and I let him go, now grasping onto my sheets to anchor myself to Earth.

As he readjusted at my side, kneeling on the bed, I pressed my forehead to the sheets. “Why didn’t you tell me about the contract?”

SLAP. “It’s been in the works for months. Before I met you. I didn’t know it would get leaked to the dirt rags.” Lance leaned over to gently kiss my cheek. “I intended on talking to you in person about it, discussing our options. I would never hurt you on purpose.”

I couldn’t lie to myself. I was so in love with Lance Archer that he could have told me anything and I would have forgiven him. All I wanted was to be with him, wherever her was, whatever that meant. Desperation seeped into my mind and I jerked upright, flipping over to catch my first sight of him in over two weeks.

He loomed over me, his red braid failing over his shoulder, tattoos covering his chest and arms. I didn’t know when he had taken his shirt off, but I drank him in as if he was the last drop of water on Earth. “Are you leaving me, Lance?”

He locked eyes with me for a moment, and then scooped me into his arms, seemingly to savor the closeness of our bodies, before lying us down. Reaching between our legs, he unzipped his pants and slid into me with practiced ease. Sighing together, he kissed me deeply before leaning back to peck my lips. “Little Ghost, I’m not going anywhere without you right now.”

“But the contract,” I protested even as he filled me up with a deep thrust.

“Shhh.” Lance gripped my thighs, looming above me as he slammed into me. I felt warm all over, sweat breaking out on my skin. Reaching up, I spread my hands against his chest, bracing myself against his powerful thrusts, but also just to feel him. I was moaning, gasping, I could hear myself, but I couldn’t stop. He felt so good inside of me.

With a soft push of his hand, he turned me onto my side. He straddled my left thigh, still thrusting into my pussy, and he held my right leg bent across his chest. It felt awkward at first until I relaxed my hips. I found his rhythm and swayed with him, a sharper gasp escaping my throat as his thigh brushed my clit.

“Lance,” I moaned. Gripping the sheets in my hands, I buried my face in my pillow.

Grunting, he slapped my ass once. “I fucking love it when you moan my name, Baby.”

I whined, my hand flailing around for a moment before I found his leg and dug my nails in. His next thrust was hard, so I did it again and was rewarded with him slamming into me repeatedly. Our breathing was labored, intertwining in the dark bedroom. There was a desperation in the air and we both felt it. As the ball in the pit of my stomach grew larger and my clit throbbed for direct attention, I suddenly pushed against Lance, causing him to rock back onto his heels and pull out of me.

Without a word, I scrambled upright, again pushing him so that he lay diagonally across the bed. Without hesitation, I climbed on top of him, sliding down his dick until I was nestled against his body.

“Fuck!” he cursed, his hands gripping my hips.

I refused to move. Peering down at him, the only light available was the moon, but I could see him perfectly. And I wanted him to see me. Shirt bunched under my breasts, hair wild around my shoulders my eyes locked on his. I felt like a siren. I was no Little Ghost anymore.

He gazed up at me, love and attraction in his eyes. His jeans were around his knees, but he made no move to take them off. I saw his shirt on the floor, and his red braids were pooling around his head like little ropes.

“I’m going to fuck you, Archer.” I felt him tense under me, but I sent him a warning glance and he stilled. “And all you have to do is lay there and rub my clit.” I grabbed one of his hands and pressed his thumb between my legs. My pussy clenched around his cock and I felt wetness pool around my entrance.

“I’m not the laying here kind, Baby.” He gave my clit a light rub. “You know that.”

Slowly I rose up, guiding his hand to stay with me, and then lowered back down. “This time you are. I want you to imagine never having me again. I want you to think about how I felt reading that headline and not being able to talk to you about it.”

Lance’s eyebrows furrowed, but he didn’t reply.

I continued, this time rocking my hips against his hand and feeling his dick slid in and out of me. “Think about what your life back in the States is going to be like without me. Is this the last time we’re gonna fuck, Lance? The last time I’m going to ride you so hard your eyes roll back into your head?”

His eyes were doing just that as I added a little swirl to my hips. He blinked and came back into focus. “Baby, come on. I was going to talk to you…”

I let go of his hand and put my finger against his lips. I was sure he could smell my juices on my skin because his eyes glazed over. “Wrong. You should have mentioned it as soon as you started entertaining the idea.”

Lance’s finger danced against my clit, and I braced myself against his chest with both hands.

Breathing was becoming harder, but I was intent on making sure my point was made clear. “All I wanted was a discussion, Lance. I don’t want to tell you what to do. Being without you these past few weeks,” I panted, “was hard enough. The AEW contract felt final. As in final for us.”

Lance was struggling underneath me. He wanted to grip my hips with both hands and thrust up into me, but he was trying to do as instructed. I knew how hard it was for him, but the lesson wasn’t over.

“Are you going to make me promises, Lance? Whisper pretty words in my ear as you fuck me? Make me fall for you, love you, and then leave because something better comes around?”

Lance cursed. “Goddammit, you are driving me crazy.” He added pressure to my clit. My thighs clapped against his in a steady rhythm and I felt my orgasm build and build.

And then in one smooth movement, I climbed off of him and walked out of the open bedroom door and down the hall.

“What the fuck!” he yelled.

Smirking, my juices dribbling down my thighs, I tugged my shirt back down and made my way into the kitchen. Opening the fridge, I pulled out a bottle of water and turned around.

Lance was standing there, his jeans gone, and his dick straight up in the air. He was livid and confused. Good. That was my intention. His breaths came out as pants, his large chest heaving with effort.

“Angry?” I asked, taking a sip of water. “Feel that? That feeling of abandonment just when things were getting good? Sucks doesn’t it?”

Jerking the water out of my hand he slammed it on the counter. “I fucking get it! I get it! I fucked up! I’m sorry! None of it went the way I thought it was going to!”

Immediately, I began to feel bad. Maybe I had gone too far? “Lance…”

I didn’t get to finish. He stepped forward and lifted me up, urging me to wrap my legs around his waist. Instantly I sank down over him and we both moaned. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and kissed him deeply.

Pressing me against the wall next to the fridge, he fucked up into me, rutting hard, his kiss punishing but full of yearning. “I’m sorry, Baby,” he moaned against my mouth. It no longer felt as if he was apologizing for not telling me about AEW, but about something else. Something that stretched between us and the chasm got wider and wider with every thrust. I clung to him in desperation and he buried his face in my neck as we held on for all we were worth.

Gripping his braids, I let him take me over the moon and back, multiple orgasms exploding and washing through me as I cried against his lips. His whole body was covered in sweat, his tattoos stark against his skin in the glow of the stove light. We slipped and slid over, around, and against each other, our bodies on fire.

A final orgasm hit me and I threw my head back. Lance latched his lips to my skin and grunted, thrusting into me in short, staccato pumps as he filled me up. He slowed his movements and came up for air, but continued to kiss my shoulders, neck, and cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered again.

My arms were weak, but I reached up and held his cheeks in my hands, forcing him to look up at me. “What happens now?”

He sighed. “Right now, we go to bed. All choices and decisions can wait until tomorrow.”

I nodded, allowing him to carry me back to my bedroom. As he laid me down, still inside of me, we curled against each other and he held me as I cried. I knew what was coming, but he was right. It could wait until tomorrow. We still had tonight.

**The End**


End file.
